Black Saturday
by Yuli Ban
Summary: You know, Luna's new friend is a bit... oh, what's the word... let's use 'dotty'. Call her Enekai Rahal— a high-elf bored with life and obsessed with the arcane, a high-elf from a fallen world and desperate for something different. Whether that something 'different' is for the best, no one knows. Luna doubts her. No one needs this lesbian kissy-kissy or doom-metal boyfriends.
1. Intro

Enekai Rahal felt a mini orgasm every time the train wheels buckled and chugged. The world outside was a mixture between blue and white, as the sun had gone down and the snowstorm had increased in intensity. Snow whirlwinds blew themselves around close to the window.

She laid back in her bunk, sipped slushed butterbeer, tucked a black rose behind her ear, and said, 'I bet you've been wracking your silly little brains over how I know Xenophilius.'

Luna looked up from the Quibbler, staring as if caught in headlights, and said, 'Didn't you say you met him while he was doing research for the story on the Danbury coiled-tail goblins?'

'Indeed, I did. However, that's a lie.' Rahal rolled over and stared straight into her eyes. 'Certainly you know that I am a high elf, correct? And that I have a vastly longer lifespan. Perhaps you have considered the possibility that I have known Xenophilius for decades now, and that we go back to childhood.'

Luna sat back and said, 'You were wrong as to which one was the lie.'

Rahal's brow scrunched. 'Am I that obvious?'

'You are a terrible liar.'

Rahal sighed and tossed down a pastry wrapped in red plastic. 'Try this. Handmade Grecian lemonsprata.'

Luna undid the wrapping and gawked at the moist yellow ball of cake. It had a smooth layer of lemon-yellow icing all across its body and a pink swirl in the city. She picked off a piece and chewed it. Instantly, she smiled.

'It's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted!'

'I knew you'd like it.' Rahal grinned. 'But you know I lied about what it is, right?'

'No you didn't.'

'Goddammit, I can't actually be that obvious. Or are you just that good?'

Luna took a bite of the thing and said, 'Perhaps.'

Rahal nodded and said, 'A smart-ass art thou?'

Luna stopped. She pulled off her spectacles and her eyes darted around the room before settling upon Rahal.

'Do you hear that?'

Rahal grunted.

'Someone's playing music.'

Again, Rahal grunted. Luna stood and looked around the compartment before checking the other rooms of the train. She came back to her room.

'Is that you?'

Rahal grinned and gave a very bizarre grunt.

Luna put her hands on her hip and gave Rahal a look only a mother could give. Rahal kept right on grinning.

The faint music stopped abruptly, and Rahal cast her a glance.

'Personalized music, love. Can't be helped.'

Luna sat back down and asked, 'What are you listening to?'

'You wouldn't know them.'

'I know many bands. I'm not as musically challenged as I may seem.'

'Hmm. Ever heard of a coupla lads called 'Electric Wizard'?'

Luna put her finger on her chin and wracked her brain. 'I don't believe so.'

'Yeah, I figured. They're not exactly popular at the moment. Actually, they just got their start a few months ago, if I recall correctly.' Rahal pulled herself up to sit and said, 'What is it, 1995? Yes, yes, their first album came out this very year.'

'Do you like them a lot?'

'Truth be told, not really. I've always been an electronic music fan. But Solomon's big into them, so he's been doing his best to drag me into the world of hard and heavy rock music.' Rahal rolled on her bed and faced Luna. 'Are you into heavy metal?'

Matter of factly, Luna said, 'No.'

'Hmm. Figures. Not many people are these days. And I'd argue that you're doing yourself right by staying the hell away.'

'Why say you?'

'Oh, things are about to go south. You think the spandex farmers were dreadful? Just wait until the angsty rap metallers get on.'

'The who?'

'No, the rap metallers. Keep your ears closed to the likes of Korn and Mudvayne and Drowning Pool. For the life of you, even if you don't care for the music, you will come to despise them.'

Luna raised her brow. 'Um...'

'I blame them for turning me off metal music. They were my introduction to the sound. Back in the days when I first came to Elon Isle and Seventh Earth, Yoshie introduced me to the music industry and popular music as a whole. Goodness, so much of it was wonderful— except that dreadfully awful metal music. Of course, I said this and he wound up introducing me to the realities of the industry, that there were more types of music than I had ever known before, and the metal music I had discovered was only nominally considered 'metal' even by fans themselves. Bloody hell, it was embarrassing listening to these pillocks whinging about bugger all!'

'Um…' That expression of hers. Total befuddlement!

It made Rahal let out a yelpy laugh and say, 'I know, you must not be interested. It's not as bad as I made it sound; it was just a few particular bands and sounds. Truth be told, I've definitely found good metal bands. I've found good bands in all genres. It just happened that my first experience were negative. But when it comes to that sort of music, I tend to leave it to Yoshie. He's into that style. All those jazzy riff-rockers 'n whatnot.'

Luna looked as if she hadn't followed a word of what Rahal said, with her mouth hanging and eyes half glazed over. 'I mean, I'd imagine... Wouldn't...?'

'What're *you* into, anyway?'

Luna snapped herself out of it and said, 'I've been into alternative music for some time now, actually. As well as pop music.'

'I see. That's cool. Yeah, I'm pretty steeped into alt music. Any particular band?'

'I've grown a bit attached to the Pixies.'

Rahal laughed and clapped her hands. 'Which makes sense. Of course people here would like the Pixies!'

After a moment of silence, Luna asked, 'Is the only reason you don't like metal music because of the bands?'

'Oh, it's not that I don't like heavy metal. I just came onto the wrong bands in the first place. Yoshie redirected me towards his preference, and I feel he has a much better taste in music than I do.'

'That makes two of us, I suppose.'

'Oi, what is that supposed to mean?'

Luna dug her palm into her cheek and said, 'I've always had a terrible taste in music, but I've never cared much.'

Rahal gave a hearty laugh. 'Figures. I bet you're the type who'll unironically love the Shaggs.'

'I've never heard of them.'

'Well now you have. Perhaps I'll let you listen to them later on. I mean, once I have determined your mind is capable of handling their gloriousness.'

'Are they good?'

'The best! They're better than the Beatles.'

'They sound interesting!'

Rahal stared into the snow, and downed another lemonsprata.

'That's actually why Yoshie looks the way he does, though.'

'Hmm?'

'Why he looks like a cheap, hippie knock-off of Harry Potter. What with the glasses and whatnot. He's a 'eavy rocker type.'

'So he's the one into heavy metal music? You said he got you out of 'angsty rap metallers' music and into his own preferences.'

'Yeah, I mean, that's just it. You prolly wouldn't find too much of an analog these days to his style. The heavy rockers won't become an in-thing for quite some time.'

This satisfied Luna for the moment, and she went back to reading. However, she soon said, 'You keep talking like you're from the future.'

'I told you I'm from Navia, love. It's beyond the time of this world.'

'But is it in the future?'

'Of course not. Navia's the quintessential land of pre-industrial dicklords. It's Seventh Earth that's in the future.'

Luna slammed down the Quibbler. 'So you _are_ from the future.'

Rahal shook her head and let out a frustrated groan. 'No— for the love of...— no! I'm from Navia. I visited Seventh Earth; I lived there a bit. And it happens to be further along in time than your world, Ninth Earth. But I do not hail from Seventh Earth. Do you need me to explain it further? Or is the job 'a good 'un?'

'I'm not following any of this. You haven't told me about Navia or Seventh Earth or any of it.' Luna had lost all of her dreaminess and distant tones. Now she sounded pissed herself.

Rahal scoffed. 'Tease it, love. I'll explain all it. It's just a right bitta fun I like to have with people, keeping 'em in the dark just so I can bust their brains with some facts.' She sucked up a mystery liquid from a cup and quickly added, 'Because if you face the goddamn facts, I'm the master of dickpottery, and you're as curious as the Shape.'

The train chugged on for hours, and the whole way through, Rahal failed to divulge anything about her history to the poor girl. Instead, she skirted around the subject with meaningless tangents and nonsensical allegories.

It isn't until Luna demanded, 'Where you are from?' that Rahal finally held up her hands and offered up her past.

'Tease it, tease it! I'm just playing one on you.' Rahal strutted around the compartment, placing her hand on her hip and throwing her eye over her shoulder. Taking on a sly grin, she said, 'Let this be your pearl bomb, lest you cock up a right bitta potential. You know how I joke off all around about being a high elf, yes?'

Luna nodded. 'You were the biggest controversy at Hogwarts since Harry Potter's first year.'

'Damn straight. Most of these little devils don't givva damn about the shlock that gets spewed about the airwaves. Lord Moldybutt doesn't care about blood purity. Take it from a person who knows what the youth of today care for— it's nothing to do with purity or idealism.'

'But what does that have to do—'

Rahal pressed her finger against Luna's lips.

'Let it grow, my dear padrooga. Things will progress naturally. Cripes, I keep forgetting you're still a child. Moldybutt is a Man, so surely the same rules apply for him that they do where I'm from. Menfolk everywhere lust for one thing— power. Pure power. As it was, many menfolk do not understand their own motivations. They skirt around their lust, or perhaps they justify it with feelgood words dressed up under the blanket term 'ideology.' Once menfolk figure out that they only live for power, they no longer live as cowards. Moldybutt is one of these men— though I'd say he's begun to make the transition from Man to Demon. I doubt many of his cohorts follow his line of thought, however.'

'But what is his line of thought?'

'I've been telling it to you— power! Raw, absolute power. What absolute power means, you will understand presently. You see, the malchicks and devotchkas over at Minimage believe themselves to be acting in the name of order. The Naz-eaters believe themselves to be acting in the name of purity. Someone like Moldybutt, as well as Malfiore— they'd only act in the name of power; in the name of instilling fear and misery in others in order to gain power over them. Powermongers believe inflicting pain to be the absolute expression of power, as it allows one to assert control over another's emotions, even their life. Pleasure simply does not compare— hence why soma is so much more insidious than ministries and their love. It is the answer to the age old question— ruling through fear is superior to ruling through respect, because it is only ever possible to rule through fear. A ruler who is not feared is not a ruler at all.'

'I don't believe that to be true.'

'Eh?'

'If a leader is not loved, and genuinely loved, how could he ever lead effectively? He will never know what his subjects want or need, because they will be too fearful to tell him the truth. He would be overthrown or done in.'

'I'm not saying it's the most effective means to rule; only that it is the reason why we wish to rule. Those who wish to rule must always accept what it is they seek, or else they will be deluded. That isn't to say a _leader_ is the same. They aren't. Rulers seek the propagation of power at all costs. Leaders have goals that are beyond themselves, that lie in the people they wish to lead.

'You'd prolly like to know where I'm getting at with this. Rulers ruined my world. They ruined my life. Powermongers living for the present at the expense of the future have kept Navia arrested in a medieval state, and it's degenerated into the nadir of civilized existence. Fellow has betrayed fellow; neighbor kills neighbor; thieves uphold honor, while nobility adopts criminality. It is a disgusting waste of a world. And you want to know how it fell to such a point? Oh, I couldn't give you any one reason why, but I will tell you that there was one event that accelerated Navia's apocalypse— industrialism.'

'You mean an industrial revolution?'

'No, not at all. I mean the response to industrialism. Seventh Earthers managed to punch through the dimensions, and they brought our world the tools of modernity while we were still tossing spears and arrows at each other. Naturally, some embraced the industrial world and saw it as the medicine a dying world needed. Most, however, have seen it as a sickness that will usher in the end of days, not realizing that the end has already arrived.

'This unholy fusion of ideals— of illiberal industrialism and radical traditionalism— exploded into a savage orgy of madness and hatred. Sevedy Mickette is the new Kyaman Bol'Yaga. You don't know who that is, and I'll tell you when we crash at your place— we're here, at the station.'

The train had slowed, but Luna had not noticed for she was so entranced in the discussion. The wheels squeaked and the inertia slowed.

All of the snow they had seen before was a dusting of sprinkles compared to the blizzard that raged at the stop. It was terrible.

'Was the weather supposed to be this awful?' Rahal said with a laugh as she wrapped a scarf around her neck.

'It's nothing major, really. We've had much worse.'

'I'm not complaining! You know I love foul weather. I'm just hoping the weather doesn't improve.'

Luna shot her a glare. 'Who hopes for that?'

'Ysseehehehehe…' Rahal swaggered on ahead, and the two found the eyes of Xenophilius, who was overjoyed to see his daughter and her new best friend.


	2. II

'Y'know', Rahal said as she set down her duffle bag. Luna turned to her. 'I've been looking into the existence of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks for quite some time. Ever since I got here, in fact.'

At mention of snorkacks, Luna's eyes lit up.

'You have?'

Rahal nodded. 'I fancy myself to be a bituva cryptid hunter. Nothing too serious, outside of the mindless searches I did in Elon forests for various creatures and myths.'

Luna was listening intently. Rahal's eyes flared and she threw her head back a little. 'If you really must know, my favorite place on Earth is considered to be absurdly haunted.'

'By dead snorkacks?'

'By the haunts.' Rahal circled Luna. 'Elon's got the works. Every creature imaginable that is said to haunt the dark recesses of reality, you can find there. Supposedly.'

Rahal sat down. 'I wouldn't be surprised if crumple-horned snorkacks could be found there as well.'

'I really want to visit this Elon place.'

'Maybe I'll take you some day. Depends on if I can get permission.'

'Who do you need permission from?'

'Janvier Halcyon. Just them, really, though Yoshie might not approve of me bringing you along either. You see, it takes quite a bitta energy to hop between worlds.'

Luna clasped her hands around Rahal's. 'Please bring me! I really would love to go.'

'Yeah, sure, I'll see what I can do.'

'What other sorts of creatures did you find there?'

'Ah... Not _too_ much, but the haul was-was decent, I guess. I mean, I got a nice little ape, a mutant lizard, a marshoid reptilian sloth, umm... Hmm, there were several others.'

'Marshoid reptilian sloth? That sounds... made-up.'

Rahal felt an intense pull to the ground, but managed to keep herself sitting upright. 'It's not, trust me. That's really just a fancy little name for a swamp monster, but Elon doesn't really have a swamp.'

Luna said, 'Are there witches and wizards in Elon?'

'No. I 'aven't found too many legit magickal beings on Seventh Earth. The powers that be there, they were infinitely more successful at squashing out what you call magic.'

'Are you sure that they're not ignorant to the wizarding world?'

'Oh no, trust me. It didn't take but a few seconds before I sniffed magic all 'round the place here. Whenever I come across anything like it on Seventh Earth, I can tell immediately. Of course, where I come from, we are nowhere near as close-minded about what constitutes magic.'

Luna cocked her head. 'What do you mean?'

Rahal lowered her head. 'This world doesn't consider electricity to be magic, do ye? Well...! On Navia, we see electricity as being one of the most potent forms of magicka. He who masters the 'lectric school masters the world. Bloody 'ell, that's why I discovered Electric Wizard in the first place— we Navians already coined the phrase millennia ago, and yet some Midland lads thought it to be a good name for their heavy rock band.'

Rahal noted that Luna looked contemplative, as if she had been convinced to seek out this band that she had kept on mentioning.

'So, I told you that I'd disclose everything about my world, now didn't I? Listen up, and listen good— I haven't the patience to piss up your ears about this again. I said before that I'm a high elf. The world I hail from is a pile of crusty cock, and it's been that way for a long, long time. Longer than my grandfather can remember, and the gormless ponce has been around for 3 ages, but it was made worse by a madman, Kyaman Bol'Yaga, a dark lord with a death wish who used his magic to blow the world's largest volcano. That blast set us back and made us all desperate. Like I was saying, there's this head witch elf, Sevedy Mickette. Right bombshell; she's gotten admirers across all genders. She's scrapped together everything she thought she needed to create an order based upon the ideals of 'magickal fascismo'. You know how fascists are— they're not even chanced about their lust for power. That's all Mickette wants, is power. The kalashnis at Janvier and Trinity know right to call 'er 'Big Sister', and she revels in the title. She's a living reaction to Bol'Yaga's civilization-wide homicide.'

'This 'Bol'Yaga' character, you said he was a dark lord.'

'If you're asking if he's like Moldybutt, I'd say they're on equal levels of insanity.'

'No, I just wanted to know why would he throw away his power if—'

Rahal laughed. 'Oh! Right. Perhaps I should've said that first about 'im, that when I said he _was_ a dark lord, that included when he blew the canotop. Some trash hero and his goons fought Bol'Yaga pretty far.' Rahal looked straight down, hiding her eyes behind her hair. 'My father was part of that hero's gang.'

'Really? That's fascinating.'

'Indeed. You can blame his ass for me being the puffy wretch I am, because he was drowning in gold 'n pussy after returning home. Of course, he was one of only three to return home. That group had pushed Bol'Yaga back and ended his pitiful little dark reign, but Bol'Yaga didn't want to go down without a fight.'

'So that's why he triggered the volcano.'

'Yes. That killed most of the heroes, but hey— Bol'Yaga was gone too, so no one was complaining about that one. It was the damn volcanic winter that wrecked everything else. It was insane how awful things got after that…'

Luna's eyes seemed to blink less and less often as she dug her hands into her cheeks. 'Volcanic winter?'

Rahal sat back. 'Yeah. You ever heard of a nuclear winter? It's just as bad as that, though obviously not radioactive. But magickal toxicity is arguably worse than radioactivity.' Rahal then began fiddling with her duffle bag. 'I'll tell you more after I spizen a doughnut.

Rahal conjured a pan and pulled a pastry from her bag. She dropped the pastry into the pan and drizzled magical sparks onto the top. The pastry sizzled, popped, and browned, and a sweetly aroma sifted through the air. Meanwhile, Luna had stood atop a stool and was painting a face onto her ceiling. There were a few faces on the ceiling, particularly one that was clearly Ginerva Weasley. However, she noticed the outline of herself.

After she had finished cooking, Rahal wiggled her fingers and strawberries popped into existence over the pastry.

Luna looked down at the dish and said, 'You love strawberries, don't you?'

'What? No, I hate them. Worst fruit ever. They're right putrid. If there is a God, He fucked up. If there isn't, evolution failed.'

Luna laughed. 'You really are a terrible liar.'

'I've always been a terrible liar. That's just my nature. Can't be helped. All chaosborns are terrible liars.'

'What's a chaosborn?'

'It's what I am. Hadn't I told you?'

Luna shook her head.

'Damn! You'd better pop writing that friendship mantra by my portrait. Yeah, I coulda sworn I said it before that I'm a special breed of elf.'

The pastry was crunchy and flaky like a croissant, but as they ate it, they both enjoyed its incredible sweetness.

'I've never heard of such a thing.'

'Oh, it's right fascinating. Chaosborns such as myself are pretty much all the same. It's terrifying.'

Xenophilius came into the room wearing goofy spectacles that Rahal didn't recognize. He had been carrying a multitude of odd rucksacks, all filled to the brim with rustling artifacts that Rahal could tell sounded like second-hand fakes that he had probably bought under the impression that they were mystical and mysterious items.

'I hope you don't mind the mess, Ms. Rahal.'

'Not at all. Messes are my natural habitat. I was just talking to dear ol' Luna about the nature of chaosborns.'

Xenophilius's eyes lit up. 'Chaosborns?'

'Yeah, Imma chaosborn. Gather 'round the sprata, Senior Lovegood! It is a filly little tale I have to tell.'


	3. III

'You see, chaosborns are a breed of Elves, Men, and Faerie folk who naturally possess something you'd dub 'electrotelekinesis.'' Rahal pointed at a bean bag and lifted it with ease without any verbal incantation or need for a wand. When she brought her fingers together, the bean bag convulsed and spit off electrical bolts. After a second, Rahal let it fall to the ground. One last spark bounced off. 'Beautiful. We get stronger the more electricity that flows through us, and we all love electrical storms— they bring with them a sort of high that permeates the air.'

'That's...' Xenophilius began.

Luna finished, 'Amazing...!' Both of their mouths had dropped.

'Oi! It goes far beyond amazing. Such magic makes us chaosborns a right force to be reckoned with. You could say that we're the 'shock troopers' of the magickal world of Navia.' Rahal then let out a massive laugh. When the Lovegoods began to chuckle, Rahal stopped abruptly. 'But!' They both flinched. 'With this great power comes many curses. No one can agree on which one's the worst because, despite our relative conformity, we're all still different people. Some say that it's our antisocial personalities that makes being a chaosborn intolerable. Despite our power— or perhaps because of it— we're segregated from polite society. We're simply far too rowdy and chaotic of people— hence why we're called chaosborns. I 'aven't met a chaosborn who isn't a raging anarchist.

'But the one I disagree with the most is our need to be electrically powered.'

Rahal grabbed her sleeve and bit her lip. Her eyes shut and her brow furrowed. Finally, after several seconds, she pulled up her left arm's sleeve to reveal a cybernetic arm.

'What is that thing?'

'This, Senior Lovegood, is a robotic arm. Far beyond your world's years. As I was telling Dauphine Lovegood back on the Hogwarts Express, I can hop between worlds, and one of these worlds is an Earth that is currently 50 years hence your time. It is, what, 1995? Going on 1996? Yes, I suppose that would place Seventh Earth's Gregorian calendar year at 2046.'

'How did you lose your arm?' Luna asked, her tone drenched in sympathetic concern.

'I cut it off.'

'You what?!'

'I cut it off. Don't make me repeat myself again.'

'Why would you do that?'

'Well why not? You'll see what's there in due time. After all, I already told you that chaosborns have awful personalities. With all that extra electricity flowing through our brains, we're rash and impulsive. Everything you feel, we feel, supercharged. That includes things like pain— and pleasure. And that is why I say I disagree with other chaosborn's hatred of being confined to electricity-rich areas. Perhaps that's why I also disagree with your world's disagreement over whether or not electrical appliances are magical.'

'I don't see how that could ever justify... this!'

'And that, O' my dear Luna, is because you're not a chaosborn. You've never had to live with that so-called curse of needing your electrical fix. This arm, it requires added electricity all its own. This is... Well, this is like a perpetual orgasm, pardon the language. That's why I love Seventh Earth so much. Ninth Earth is alright, except for the wizardy bits, ironically enough.'

'You say this is... 'Ninth Earth'? Are there eight others?'

Rahal shook her head. 'A lot more than eight. But I've only ever been to three of these Earths— this one, Seventh Earth, and Navia. Of course, that's because we can see the other Earths from a distance. I wouldn't want to step foot on Eighth Earth, that's for sure.'

'Why? What's wrong there?'

'Nuclear holocaust. Everything went to sh—, er, everything went to rot back in '83. Actually, your world narrowly avoided the same rot about a year ago. Did you 'ear about that Norwegian rocket that almost caused a worldwide atomic conflagration?'

Both Xenophilius and Luna looked at each other and shook their heads. 'Oh yes! While you lot were pissin' your pants about Lord Moldybutt, the Russians almost sent the world to the pot because of some damn silly... some damn silly misidentification.' Rahal clasped Luna's hands. 'Trust me— you don't want to experience such a fate. It's beyond what you can imagine.'

'You said that the Bol'Yaga fellow did something like that to your world...'

'That I did. Care for this, Senior Lovegood?' Luna shoved her plate to Xenophilius.

'Oh! Don't mind if I do, thank you.'

'Yes, that was 600 years ago, long long long before my time. I said that it was a horrible suicide attempt that took our whole world down with him.'

'And who is this again?'

'A dark lord named Kyaman Bol'Yaga. I swear, between the likes of Voldemort—' both Lovegoods winced— 'Grindelwald, Sauron, and Bol'Yaga, the dark lords always get the best names. I was telling Luna how my papa was part of a hero's guild to take down Bol'Yaga and said guild all but succeeded until Bol'Yaga's back was against the wall, he got desperate, and magically triggered a supervolcano.'

Xenophilius had half chewed his strawberry sprata when he said morosely, 'I can see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named doing the same thing.'

'I wouldn't worry too much about 'im. Just keep Moldybutt away from Britain's nuclear launch codes, and you'll be alright.'

'You keep calling him that,' Xenophilius said.

'I got a right laugh outta your dauphine with that, actually. Got really concerned that I'd hafta use some healing spell if she didn't stop choking on all those laughs.' Rahal pat her back.

Luna blushed and looked down. 'You made the whole great hall laugh, though.'

'Yeah, but you were the loudest. But no, Bol'Yaga decided that, if he couldn't have his dark realm, no one would be able to live on Navia. Of course we...' Rahal smacked her lips. 'I was going to say we lucked out, but that's nonsense— it would've been better if he shot off Techutli rather than Rysl'Ulta. Those are a couple of the Central-East supervolcanoes on the Ulmayiran continent. It was a queer chance of fate that papa and his gang pushed Bol'Yaga towards the Rysl mountain range rather than the Yoctalitan peninsula. Rysl'Ulta was about two orders of magnitude weaker than Techutli. I believe the Earther classification for these things is 'VEI' here too, correct?'

'I'm not exactly proficient on Muggle Studies, though I do know they have a classification for these things.'

'Yes, well Techutli would be a VEI 10, whereas Rysl'Ulta was a VEI 8. Still a near-extinction level event, but not the planet-buster that Techutli threatens to be. And that's the worst part about it— our suffering could have been so swift. Instead, we've endured centuries of murder and madness. And I don't want you to get the wrong idea like so many of the Voroschnevans get, that the days before Bol'Yaga's suicide were a halcyon. We were in decline for two Ages before then. That just accelerated our demise.'

'Voroschnevans...?'

'There are a lotta names I'm throwing at you, I know. That's the nature of the beast when you're dealing with a person from another world. The Voroschnevans are a buncha Men— humans, I guess would be the politically correct term— who believe that the Voroschnev empire was the peak of civilization, just because it was the first and last time Men had ever held any semblance of power on Ulmayira and because it was before the Dark Ages we're currently trapped in. Their lot got put in their place, of course. It's a tad hilarious, really, because that's why the Slytherin fellows were so offended by my mere presence. I hail from a world where all of these proud ponces would be cast off as no better than the Muggles and Mudbloods they so despise. In fact, papa would probably be furious if he knew I grew so attached to my new friend, Luna. He already was furious when I became romantically involved with Yoshie.'

'That's Yoshua Solomon,' Luna quickly said to her father. 'He's her boyfriend.'

'So your father...'

'Adeus. Adeus Rahal.'

'Your father, Adeus, he hates humans?'

'Ah, yes. Indeed. I keep saying this about Earth— you're all so...' Rahal covers Luna's ears. 'You're all so fucking lucky to have so few species amongst thou streets.' She pulls her hands away and leans back on a chair. 'Maybe not Ninth Earth, but Seventh Earth definitely. When I first came across the Earths, I was a right Nazi. Didn't want to associate with humans whatsoever. No pointy ears and elven eyes? All my suspicion. The only 'good one' was Yoshie. I had to grow outta that mess. But then again, I was already considered to be a progressive moron on Navia. Most chaosborns are considered flawed because they are less prejudiced. So me being treated like an equal to Yoshie felt a tad wrong, even if it was liberating.'

'That's horrible!' Xenophilius said.

'By your morals, of course. Remember that I hail from another world, with a wholly different culture. The most prog on Navia would still be considered right-wing bigots, even among the wizarding world. And lemme tell ya, compared to the Muggle world, the wizarding world— not even Moldybutt's version, but the straight British wizarding world— is conservative as all hell. It's rather nostalgic, being able to call the magically retarded 'squibs' and hearing 'mudblood' thrown around so casually. The Muggles would have your asses for that. But it might also be because the Muggle world is biologically egalitarian. They don't know about all these magical creatures, so they never had to worry about different sapients residing in their world. You're so obsessed with strange creatures like nargles and humdingers... Have you ever considered that Muggles think *every* magical creature is a cryptid?'

'I have heard this, yes...'

'Exaggerate all that, and you get something like Navia. We have orcs, for example. You know of orcs, no? Always considered to be the subhuman vile horde that you can effortlessly mow down in whatever pseudo-medieval fantasy roleplay you engage in? Now let's actually go to a fallen-medieval fantasy world that has orcs, and you can imagine how we feel about them.

'But that's beside the point.'

Luna asks, 'Are there crumple-horned snorkacks on Navia?'

Rahal considered this. 'I... I don't recall any. I mean, possibly. I don't know every creature that walks on Navia. Like I said, we're pre-industrial. We don't have the luxury of all your fancy technologies and magical inventions. Most of what we know is myth. Bol'Yaga's little volcanic tantrum destroyed most knowledge anyhow, and any fragment of pre-Dark Age knowledge can fetch tens of thousands of gold coins. But there are creatures there that don't exist here, so who knows.'

Both of the Lovegoods' eyes lit up.

'Yeah, I can tell that interests you. Unfortunately, you won't be able to see any of it.'

'I've been meaning to ask you— are you sure there's no chance you could take me there?'

'Even if I wanted to, the truth is that it's not really worth the time. Most of the magical creatures you'd be interested in have long since died out. And that's just the creatures, to say nothing of the world at large. Trust me, Luna— you *don't* want to go to Navia.'

'But—'

Rahal raised her voice and said, 'Imagine what Lord Voldemort's Britain would look like. Now make that the entire world, and then make it post-apocalyptic. If I brought you anywhere, you'd most definitely be snatched by traders and paraded around as a cheap whore. Especially considering I'm a chaosborn and considered to be a race traitor. If anything, I should apologize for getting your hopes up earlier. The place is fulla rot and gets worse every day.'

Luna looked forlorn and settled herself down.

Rahal folded her arms and looked out the window. 'I mentioned before the magickal toxicity of the world. I can't imagine what Bol'Yaga did, but he managed to create a form of magical fallout to add to the devastation. Because of this, creatures of all sorts— sapient and not— have suffered grave mutations. We've learned to live with it. At least, that's what I was always told.

'In truth, the Nashirovs— the ruling family where I live— thrive on the chaos. They're the real chaosborns, I tell you. They've used the madness to create an absolutist regime based on tradition and might. Anyone who resists is butchered, and you're raised from birth believing things are getting better. After all, you can head on down to the local ring and watch a buncha slaves 'n orcs tear each other apart for a coin. Panem et circenses, am I right?'

Meekly, Luna asks, 'What about that Mickette lady?'

'Sevedy! Yes, yes, Sevedy Mickette. She's one of those who resisted. The crazy part being that she was one of the highest ranking aristos in the Nashirov regime, so her resistance actually meant a damn. Mickette was our Saruman, always obsessing over industrialism and efficiency. And she was the reason we established a contact with Seventh Earth in the first place. That was one of the great turning points of Navian history. For the worse, of course. Seventh Earth was basically pre-Singularity at the time, and when they introduced industrialism to Navia, they also inadvertantly introduced totalitarianism. That's why they call it Sevedy Mickette's Black Sabbathian Magickal Mephistarian— that witch basically wants to end the world. It's crazy to think I actually followed her for a time.'

A plate clattered. Xenophilius stood up and said, 'Well, I'll leave you two to your own thing. I have... I have work to do.' Rahal noted he seemed out of it, and he shuffled out of the room as if he had been perturbed.


	4. IV

'It seems this has all been a huge shock to your father.'

'I think he was stunned by you saying you were a follower of Sevedy Mickette.'

Rahal gave a silent gasp. 'Obviously I'm not anymore! If I were, I'd have wasted you and your father and prolly the whole damn school. Malfiore doesn't breed anything resembling tolerance. No, she took elven supremacy and brought it as far as you can take anything. She'd have Moldybutt by his withered bollocks for daring to suggest he and his power-mad droogies were anything more than apes.'

Luna brushed her hair to the side and returned to her painting.

'As long as you dropped those nasty ideas.'

Rahal's chuckles burst into a laugh. 'I dropped those 'nasty ideas' years ago.'

'But aren't you fourteen?'

'Well. I coulda sworn you could see through all my lies. Truth be told, I might as well be fourteen, but I've about thirty years behind me.'

'Thirty!'

'Now before you get your red knickers in a knot, lemme add that these are Navian and elven years. Hence why I say I might as well be fourteen.'

'But you're still thirty.'

'In Earth years. And in Menfolk's years, yes. But by that metric, I should've been a Seventh Year when I was a dauphine myself— high elves don't age like Men, and we're all that much more superior to you.'

'I thought you said you dropped those ideals.'

'It's basic fact, mate. I can't change reality to suit your Menfolk-oriented egalitarianism. You want to know why I'm a Ravenclaw and not a Slytherin? Well to be honest, I'm not sure myself. I was sure that I'd be a natural Slytherin, but that damned hat felt otherwise.'

Luna shuffled herself to turn around and said matter-of-factly, 'You're nothing like the Slytherins.'

Rahal felt a fair blush rush across her cheeks. After a stunned moment of silence, she said, 'W-well, maybe not now. But that's what I was saying, innit? That I used to be a right villicent skinn'ead, all clad in villicent regalia and playing the role of nivvny mollishow. Always tossard with Vayeci and Poxhart.'

Rahal stopped herself when she noticed Luna had paused.

'Gesundheit?'

'That's all HOSS speak, it makes sense you wouldn't get it. I'm trying to defrag my brains from that lifestyle.'

Luna began painting again. 'That's very good.'

'Er, well, you want I should, um...' This hadn't happened to her in years, and her mouth was evidence of it. Everything she said fell over the next word, and she stumbled about trying to make her point. At last, she calmed herself and exhaled. 'I've never had anyone tell me I'm not a Slytherin.'

'But haven't you only recently learned what Slytherin are, if you hail from another world?'

'Well, no. You-you see, your world also exists in Seventh Earth.' Rahal noticed Luna's brow drooped and the blondeball seemed to malfunction as she turned to her.

'But...'

'Yes, well, ah... This is going to sound mental, but your world is considered fiction on Seventh Earth. They already know how this whole Voldemort debacle will end up, hence why I'm not too concerned about your little group. Just don't tell anyone I said such a thing.'

'That sounds so wrong, though. Am I—'

'We should drop the subject. Dimension hopping is BS. Surely you wish to know more about Sevedy Mickette, right?'

'I'm actually more interested in this Seventh Earth now. It sounds like the most fascinating place of them all.'

'Oh it is! It's glorious. Like I said, if you get past that close-minded ideal that electricity is not magic, then you'll realize how amazing that world really is. It was Seventh Earth that proved to me more than anything just how wrong— wrong and terribly wrong— my old childish prejudices against Menfolk were.'

'I need to be certain— you said that all humans are Menfolk, correct?'

'Yes. To the Navian elven elite, there's no difference between wizards and Muggles. And yet it's always the Menfolk, innit?'

'What do you mean?'

'It's the Menfolk who mastered their world. Whether that's natural talent or their simple profanity, I don't know. That's the biggest difference between the likes of you and I, O' my dear Luna— I'm a freak because I seek chaos, whereas chaos is the natural order for Menfolk, for humans, such as yourself. You can see it in your pitiful house elves— they dare not disrespect their masters, and they forever see themselves as inferior for the most baseless of reasons. Menfolk would never tolerate such an existence for long.

'Menfolk value the profane over all. Once they enchant something, you immediately imagine profanities against it! Nothing is sacred to humans— and that's precisely why your kind is so masterful.'

'What are you getting at with this?'

'Seventh Earth, O' my dear Luna, is a world far beyond your own. Surely you keep up with the doings of Muggles, no?'

'A little, yes. Primarily their music.'

'As you've mentioned, yes. The Pixies and whatnot. But I suppose you— nor anyone at Hogwarts— care for Muggle science? It is their modern method of profanity against the sacred. It's a damn shame the elves rule in Navia, because everything sacred deserves to be desecrated. Whatever doesn't work shouldn't be perpetuated.'

Luna stopped painting. 'That last line sounded a bit bad.'

'Which one? Whatever doesn't— oh, right. Yes, don't take that out of context.'

Rahal giggled. 'I guess there's some aspects that are still lingering within me.'

She sat back and sighed. 'Where does your father work?'

Luna jolted in her seat and turned to Rahal. 'He works here! At our house.'

'Ah yes! How do I keep forgetting these things...' From her coat, Rahal pulled a folded copy of The Quibbler. 'I suppose I'm too used to the ways of Lord Amon. He's the head of an alt-magazine himself, but he's a wealthy chap and has his own printing press.'

Luna spoke up again, saying, 'To continue what you were saying, I don't follow the going-ons of Muggles extensively, but I'm always interested in their culture. You sound knowledgeable enough.'

'Please flatter me some more.'

Luna cast her a sideways glance and asked, 'What do you mean by that?'

This brought a half-surprised expression to Rahal's face. 'It is what it sounded like— I've never been commended for knowledge in Muggle culture, so... I mean, I'm rather surprised that you know so little about Muggles considering you live side-by-side. Karath'kar tafflons and Sidliaum menfolk know quite a bit about each other, and they're separated by a sea and have vastly different cultures and languages. Wizards and Muggles, you're all menfolk regardless of your magical abilities, and yet it's like you hail from different planets.'

Luna considered this and replied with, 'This may be because of what you mentioned before, that this is a different world than the one you're used to. I bet that, in a magical world like Navia, everyone expects the same thing from each other even if you're all so different. But here, Muggles can't be trusted to know of the Wizarding world.'

Rahal nodded. 'That, I can understand.'

'So we had to hide ourselves away for so long that we eventually just… you know, became different.'

'Yeah, that makes sense. But what doesn't make sense is how conservative the Wizarding world remains despite seeing what Muggles are capable of. Surely you know that Muggles have wired this planet to blow.'

'Yes, we know.'

'And surely you know that Moldybutt isn't unique to the Wizarding world. It must be right hell to be forced to keep your existence a secret like this. How did it even come to this?'

'I don't know the specifics, but there was this thing—'

'Don't tell me, lemme guess. It was an inquisition, wasn't it? To root out magic.'

'Exactly. That and the Wizarding world's intolerance of Muggles before then hasn't led to the best of relations.' Luna coughed. 'And I bet that sounds hilarious to you because it's all 'menfolk' acting superior to each other.'

Rahal noogied Luna and laughed. 'I won't lie! It really is hilarious. But who am I to judge? I never said this was unique to menfolk. Moldybutt should visit Navia to pick up a few pointers, but besides that, he's nothing special. His hatred of Muggles is tribalism at best.'

'You were saying something about Muggle science, though?'

'All science is supposed to be is explanation of magic. All technology is supposed to be is application of magic for those incapable of directing it themselves.' Rahal gripped Luna's wand, leaning in close to her. 'See this? By Muggle definitions, this is a piece of technology. But menfolk, you lot don't tend to stop with something this primitive. The traditions of wandmaking were once arcane, but now they've become sacred. This only means that, one day, there will be menfolk obsessed with profanity who will come along and—'

Rahal squeezed Luna's cheeks and kissed her. Her tongue went in deep.


	5. V

Their lips parted, and Rahal rubbed her mouth. Shock filled Luna's eyes, bringing her to her feet.

Rahal continued, saying, 'There will be menfolk obsessed with profanity who will come along and replace wands with something else, something they find more fitting.'

Luna shouted, 'What was that?'

'That, O' My Dear Luna, was the traditional greeting of a Navian princess. Tsk! No, that was just one of my overflowing urges. It happens from time to time.'

Luna fell back onto a wall. 'You kissed me...'

'Did you like it?'And with that, Luna couldn't respond. All her muscles tensed, and she closed her eyes.  
'It's the truth, though.'

Luna opened her eyes and got an eyeful of elf. There she was, right there, standing nose-to-nose with her.

'W-what's the truth?'

Rahal stepped back. 'That's how we greet other friendly princesses, by deep throating each other with our tongues. Call it a cultural quirk.'

This brought Luna to rub her lips and look at the spittle upon her wrist. 'You mean...'

'I don't know if it's a coincidence or not, that your world treats such an act as the sign of romance. Eh.' Rahal shrugged. 'Nothing I can do about your history. Nothing I can do about mine.' Luna slid to the floor, eyes forward and unblinking and mouth a tad drooped. 'Oh come off it, you liked it.' Rahal giggled. Then she pulled from her coat something much stranger than a sprata. 'Care for one?'

Luna looked at it. A mushroom.

'I've taken to these. The best mushrooms are the massive ones with quite a bitta splooge 'n spores inside, if I do say so myself.'

'Of course you'd say that.'

Both girls jumped and turned to the window. Hanging in was none other than Yoshua Solomon. His Slytherin cloak was wrapped around his neck like a scarf; otherwise, he was still clad head-to-toe in denim.

'Yoshie! How'd you survive the blizzard?' Rahal got to her feet and glomped Solomon, brushing his wiry and shaggy hair free of snowflakes.

'It's my burning misanthropic nihilism. Keeps me warm.'

'Don't believe 'im, O' My Dear Moon-Snorkack.'

The utterance of such a verbal mess snapped Luna out of her daze, and she managed to get to her feet.

'You are Yoshua Solomon,' she exclaimed. 'I don't think I've met you since the first day at Hogwarts.'

Solomon saluted her. 'Sup? You're, ah… Luna Lovegood, right?' He and Rahal swung each other around and kissed.

'This is every day now, Yoshie! When are we gonna move onto the Other Things?'

'It's not every day. This is the first time in weeks.'

Luna stepped in and said, 'Sorry to interrupt, but it's really fascinating to finally meet you personally.'

Rahal fell to the ground with a thud— Solomon dropped her and focused his attention onto Luna.

'Ow! Motherf—...'

'Pleasure's all mine.'

Luna oggled Solomon's hair, while memories flashed through her eyes. It was true what Rahal said— he really did look like a long-haired version of Harry Potter. But more than that…

'I've never met an American before,' Luna said.

'Yeah,' was his reply.

Rahal dragged herself up on Solomon's clothes and smacked him across the head. 'I oughta light that Jewfro of yours on fire.'

Luna couldn't help but to laugh.

That reminded Solomon, who smacked Rahal back. 'What's this with you getting all leslie with Luna Lovegood?'

Rahal smacked Solomon again. 'It's my custom.'

Solomon smacked Rahal. 'You don't French kiss strangers, you dilldole.'

Rahal smacked Solomon. 'She's not a stranger, yiffwizard. She's been my friend for weeks.'

Luna separated the two, arresting Rahal's arms and throwing herself in between their violence.  
'Stop slapping each other, please!'

Solomon replied, 'No promises.' That made Rahal giggle.

Yet Luna pouted at him and said, 'Why are you so mean to her?'

Instead of replying, Solomon pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit it with his wand.

It was Rahal that said, 'We keep each other in line. I stop him from unleashing the End of Days; he stops me from riding the Pale Horse. It's a, how you say, mutual contract.'

'Wish to pol another demon lung?' Solomon mumbled through the fag.

'Piss off.' When Rahal raised her hand again, faint sparks popped around her fingers. Luna reached out to grab her wrist. Rahal stopped. 'Loons— can I call ya Loons?— you've gotta open your yuckholes for a moment and remember that we're not from your world.'

'I don't care! You can't keep abusing each other like this.' Rahal stepped back when she noticed something glint across Luna's cheek. 'People don't do that if they love each other!'

Quarter of a grin sneaked onto Solomon's lips. 'Poor devotchka's so naive.'

Rahal tossed him a sneer and then laughed into her hands. As she turned to Luna, she said, 'I know it's brutal… I know it's not in your culture… Hell, that's what I was talking about earlier! That's why I was saying I can't skip you across the sea to Navia.'

Rahal put her finger to Luna's head and pretended to pull the trigger. 'Your precious little heart couldn't take it. You're insulated by this politically correct society and can't see how brutish vast swaths of your own world really are— and yet you still attempt to paint a world with an alien history with your same biases.'

Solomon squinted his eyes. 'You really offered to bring Luna Lovegood— Luna Lovegood!— to Seventh Earth?'

Rahal said, 'Maybe you do need to see Navia first just to get what I'm trying to say. Who knows! Maybe it'll inspire you to clean up your own world.'

'Am I being ignored?'

Luna wiped her cheek and said, 'I just don't like the way you two keep beating each other. You weren't playing— you're bruised.'

'It'll heal. I'm used to it.'

'That's not right, though! If you're used to it, shouldn't you want something different?'

Rahal rolled her head. 'Good lord; what do I hafta say to get thro… We _are_ playing. You don't get that we're playing because you're so unused to our abilities.'

A shriek screamed from Rahal's hand. Electricity danced around her fingers, convulsing and coalescing into a ball. She opened Luna's window and tossed the energy ball off into the field.

It exploded. The explosion sounded like a loud **snap** and a gale cleared a wide area of the now-grassy field as clumps of snow rained down.

Luna had fallen to her bum, and Solomon helped to scoop her up.

'Frightening, innit? That's barely enough for me to feel in my palm. If I had actually tried, I coulda leveled half your island.' Rahal stares into Luna's eyes. 'And I do mean the British Isles.'

Luna stuttered, 'But how could you actually have that much power?'

Solomon tossed his cigarette out the window. 'We've been through a lot, Loons. More than you can imagine, surely.' He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and said, 'I'll be outside.'

When Luna glanced his way, she noticed that she saw his shadow upon the wall and in the mirror— yet Solomon himself had no figure in the mirror.

As Solomon left, he stepped out of the way of Xenophilius.

'What on Earth…!'

Rahal said, 'We're just cooking. Don't mess.'


	6. VI

Later the night, Rahal brought Luna outside. She fiddled with the black rose still behind her ear.

Rahal said, 'Do you want to see Navia?'

This caught Luna off guard. 'I thought you said—'

'I know what I said. At least, if Yoshie's here, things won't be so bad and I can assure some level of protection for you. Besides...' Rahal squeezed Luna's cheeks again, and the girl squirmed out of her grip.

'Please, no. I'm not that way.'

Rahal said, 'Wait, wha— Oh no, no, that's not what I was trying to do.' Again, Rahal squeezed her cheeks, flicked her thumb, and pressed her fingers against the back of Luna's neck.

'Ouch!'

'It's not that painful, Moonshine. You'll need it to understand all the frightening, chaotic, and indecipherable languages you'll soon hear.'

Solomon emerged from the shadows of the household. He carried a sack over his shoulder, a sack full of cluttering and fragile-sounding trinkets.

'Ho ho ho,' he sang. 'I bear your family gifts from another realm. Xenophilius has already seen them.'

Luna eyed the bag suspiciously. She hadn't seen him with it earlier, and— now that she thought of it, she couldn't recall seeing Solomon whenever he left the house.

Rahal grabbed the neck of the bag and carried it to the steps of Lovegood House.

'Later, Yoshie, later. First, I've taken a decision on whether or not we should bring Moonshine to Navia.'

Luna whispered, 'My name is Luna; where are you getting Moonshine from?'

Rahal sniggered into her hand and said, 'It's nothing.'

'That's not what people call me on Seventh Earth, is it?'

'No, not at all. But that's not important!'

'Is she going or not?'

'When have you ever been an impatient man?'

Rahal noogied Solomon, ruffling his already wiry and shaggy hair, and flicking his chai necklace.

He answered, 'Ever since you started pissing about!'

'Whatever. And to answer your question, yes. She's going. I figured that, since we have you on our side, I won't have to worry too much about if Luna'll be able to come back in one piece. Not too many people will dare to steal from a god, after all.'

This brought Luna to her knees. She screamed, 'You're a god?' But she regained her posture and said, 'Sorry, I'm just not too good with sarcasm.'

With a straight face, Rahal said, 'No, he's a god. I mean come on, I even told you he's a prince, right?'

'No.'

Rahal considered this, scrunching her face and saying, 'I didn't?'

'You didn't?' Solomon looked offended. 'That's the first thing you ever tell anyone about me, isn't it?'

After rubbing her chin, Rahal said, 'Well... Now you know.'

'And you're a princess, right?'

'I mean, that's what your world would call it. And we've already consummated our royal love.'

Solomon blushed and looked down.

'Not that anyone thought this ponce had it in him.'

'So why do you need protection? Shouldn't people know?"

'That's how bad Navia is, Moonshine. No one gives a damn about your social class. And yet, at the same time, that's all some people derive their worth from. Imagine a society that's simultaneously fascist and anarchist.'

Rahal fell to the ground and made a snow angel while Solomon talked into his phone. Luna felt anger in her, and it bubbled until she said, 'How could you be so carefree if your homeworld is so terrible?'

Rahal tossed a snowball at her face. As she laughed, she said, 'Because we don't care about power.'

Solomon stiffled one of the biggest laughs of the century, turned to Luna, and said, 'That's how I know Rahal's not in her right mind.'

'Oh come off it, love.'

'This bitch used to live solely for the pursuit of absolute power.'

'She doesn't need to know that!'

'If times were different, she'd probably be a follower of Voldemort.'

Luna said again, 'But that's not who you are anymore! You're not anything like the Slytherins.'

'Hey, now— not all Slytherins are for Voldemort. But Yoshie's telling the truth. If the last few years never happened, I'd be a Naz-Eater right now.' Rahal went back to playing in the snow. 'Goddamn, I love this stuff!'

'Snow is the worst thing in the universe.'

'Shove it!'

Luna watched on, struggling to wrap her mind around the couple's actions and reactions. At that moment, her mind began to shift, and her feelings toward Rahal hardened. Yet the only thing to show for it was her scowl.

'Will we be going to Navia soon?'

'Not just yet, Moonshine. Yoshie's used up all the juices we needed, so we're just waiting for the universe to supply some more.'

'By the way, Luna,' Solomon began. He walked around her and slipped his hand over her shoulder as if she were an old friend. That touch electrified her, and Luna couldn't explain why. His vibe, his magic... It was on another level. 'I've heard quite a bit about you.'

'I'm watching your hands, you litch!' came from behind them. Solomon sneered at her.

'But what I'm really interested in is your relationship with Harry Potter.'

Luna's heart skipped a beat. This never happened before— she's never been so anxious about speaking to another person. And Harry Potter?

'I d-don't really know him very well, b-but he's a charming fellow.'

Solomon let go of her and walked ahead. 'Would you say he's worth talking to? Don't answer that. I know the answer.'

'Jesus, Solomon!'

'What, child?'

'It's still not fully charged? Christ. If we're gonna wait this long, then why don't we make some napalm wine? I have this perfect little Black Saturday.' She pulled the black rose from behind her ear and waved it around. 'After all, it should take about an hour to whip up a few pints.'

'Nope, it's done.' Solomon pulls a magic wand from within his denim coat and lifted it to the heavens. Sparkling rainbows flowed from the edge out into the world at large. That should have been enough to amaze Luna, but what caught her attention was Solomon's wand. The way he held it suggested it was not a wand at all— but a cross. And then the world wobbled, degenerating into a maelstrom of colors. There was no sound. Time stopped. The air thickened and the smell of a bitter winter faded, replaced by a growing stench of a thousand rotting corpses. Luna felt her insides coming up her throat.

Rahal said, 'I warned you this world's disgusting. Trust me, O' My Dear Moonshine! It will get worse— much worse!'

The colors, once psychedelic and from a million parts of the spectrum, fast died. The vortex's edges took the color of foul, month-old dung.

And then Navia appeared before them.


	7. VII

Luna felt disappointed.

The colors faded, but the stench remained. Everything looked antiquated and quaint, just as what one would expect to see if they jumped to medieval times. And yet that was the problem. This world looked medieval.

'Captivating, ain't it?' Rahal said, patting her back. 'It's as beautiful as a stallion's watery turd, and smells just as good.'

Over to their right, a peasant was being beaten until dead. To their left, a merchant ignored the fight and instead filled animal intestines with chopped meat. Luna couldn't bear to look at her feet, and should could bear even less when she took a step and heard an unholy "squish!"

Solomon said, 'I can't stand this place. What does Kassandra see in it?'

Rahal replied, 'It's that blasted Romanticism.'

None of them could walk more than a few steps before messing their shoes.

'How can things be this unclean?'

'I've been telling you— the world collapsed hundreds of years ago. No one cares about clean streets. It's every man for himself; everyone wants to get their own bitta satisfaction 'n pleasure in what little time they have on this rock.'

Everything looked the part: timberframed houses, post-Romanesque chapels, thatched taverns, candlelight lamps (clearly unused for decades), the works. Luna recalled the Nostalgics, those witches and wizards who longed for the olden days before modern Muggle engineering dominated the world— she saw everything they wanted.

Except if this is what they wanted, they wanted something awful.

So she asked, 'What happened?'

Rahal smacked her lips, and Luna took that to apologize.

'Nihilism. Misanthropic nihilism. It's kinda cute, ain't it?'

The sky blackened. Rain fell.

'Look alive, O' My Dear Moonshine! This is the gods taking a piss on us.'

Dreamily, Luna said, 'It's really awful here...'

'I've been telling you that for hours, innit. The only reason I thought it a good reason to bring you here is because I know you to be a fan of cryptids.'

Solomon shouted, 'Ship.'

Luna scowled and said, 'You shouldn't swear like that.'

Solomon pulled a fag from a box and lit it, inhaling the smoke and breathing out. 'No, you loon. I said "Ship." That ship's setting sail.'

Luna looked off into the distance, only to be greeted by a castle wall. 'What ship?'

Rahal's response was to fill his gut with her fist. 'She doesn't swing that way, you twat.'

Solomon bent over and used his position and rush Rahal. 'The ship is on the seas.'

Rahal locked her elbow around his neck. 'It takes a modicum of ETK to disintegrate one's neck bones.'

Solomon lifted her off her feet and slammed her to the ground. 'Filth shouldn't bemoan overflowing scum!'

Rahal grabbed his ankles and brought him straight onto an antpile. 'With enough force, squeezed bollocks can cause high-impact heart attacks!'

As they dirtied themselves in the dung, Luna pulled out her wand and shouted, 'Petrificus Totalus.'

They stopped moving, struggling to flex a muscle.

'Loons, deary, you've made your point. Now let us go.'

'Not until you promise to stop abusing each other!'

'For the love of Christ.'

'What?'

'Not now, Yoshie. Get us untangled already.'

Solomon whistled and the spell was undone. Luna lifted her wand again, stepping back and threatening to shoot.

'Alright, look, if you're going to keep doing that—' he began. Luna spit and guffawed. Solomon's brow furrowed and he tossed a glance at Rahal before staring back at Luna. 'Wh-what? What did I...?'

Rahal said, 'You're covered in cold ass-mung. All across your body. Pure brown. It's like you're changing race again.' She got herself to her feet and chuckled. 'Cripes. I just got this damn coat. You see why I don't like this place, O' My Dear Moonshine? It's locked in the middle of the Dung Ages.'

The rain passed, and soon the sun emerged from behind the passing storm clouds. The smell got worse. Luna gagged and needed to stoop over a chamberpot at the sight of the now watery and mushed feces that filled the town streets. It was horrid before, but the rain had done a job of washing it all together instead of washing it away.

Above, a dragon roared. It flew over the town, casting its shadow over the street for but a split second.

'There goes Dhovazin— one of the king's personal assassin dragons. I'd recommend staying away from their lot. Nasty bunch.'

'You say that because they think they're superior to elves.'

'No, they're right gits.'

'Because they see themselves as superior.'

'No! Moonshine, you know any dragons?'

Luna looked up, surprised that she was involved in the plot again. 'Oh-sorry, what was that?'

'Dragons, Luna. You know any dragons?'

'No.'

'Shame. I love dragons. I just hate their attitude.'

'She means she hates being called inferior.'

Rahal clocked Solomon on the forehead. Before another round of ultraviolence could commence, Luna raised her wand and threatened to petrify them again.

'Right, you just want to see a cryptid. I'll show you one. I'll even let you bring it back. Just be sure to keep a nice little eye on it, or else you'll lose it.'

They left the castle walls and approached a boot-shaped shack in a wooded valley. Rahal approached the door and knocked four times. Rather than waiting for a response, she let herself in. Solomon followed. Luna hesitated against barging into someone's home, but when Rahal came out and told her that no one was there, she sighed and felt she had missed an adventurous opportunity.

'This is my mate's place, Kassandra McCarthy.'

Luna began to say something, but Solomon cut her off with, 'That isn't a Navian name, before you ask. Eni was talking about her earlier, though.'

'Yeah, she's one from Seventh Earth. One of the Romantics who adored medieval history and whatnot and decided she wanted to live here. Oddly enough. Now she hunts and collects magickal beasts, sorta like Rubeus.'

'You mean Hagrid?'

'Yes, of course. I'm not good with last names. Feels too formal.'

And then Rahal pulled from her coat a strange, bird-like creature that brought Luna closer and transfixed her for god knows how long. It had no beak— instead, there was a speckled duckbill. Its feathers swept forward, and the color and texture was that of an oily rainbow. Those beautiful eyes seemed more fitting for dogs— both of them faced forward, giving the avian a peculiar appearance. Its four legs shuffled as it squirmed, and its tail seemed more fitting of that of a lizard.

'This, O' My Dear Moonshine, is a Dragon-Tailed Tysolbill. It took Sandra several years just to find bones of this thing, and luckily those bones were themselves decades old.' Rahal leaned in, cutting off Luna's attempt to hold the cryptid. 'After it dies, it decomposes to bones for exactly 72 years, and then a new body grows from the bones!'

Solomon exhaled smoke and said, 'Of course, their bones are sweet way to get some napalm wine.'

'Yes, yes...' Rahal pulled the Black Saturday from behind her ear and handed it to Luna, who gawked instead at the Tysolbill. 'Napalm wine. Luna, tell me— has your class yet learned how to create some of that napalm wine?'

Silence.

'Luna!'

'Hmm? Yes?'

'I'm asking you a question. Answer it, and I'll let you hold this beaut.'

'I'm listening.'

'Your Potions class—'

'We haven't been learning much in our classes lately.'

'Ah, yes. I wouldn't know; Dumbledore personally prevented me from taking Potions for whatever reason.'

Luna turned to her and stuttered, 'No, I mean we have been taught very rudimentary things ever since the Frog Lady came.'

Rahal kicked a pile of mush and used telekinesis to shape it into a bust of Dolores Umbridge. Solomon glanced at it, and it caught fire.

'In that case, we're gonna teach you how to make napalm wine,' Solomon said. 'Find any Black Saturday you come across, douse it in the wine, and light it on fire, and whole bunches of amazing things will happen.'

Luna shook her head. 'Black Saturdays are evil flowers, and napalm wine is very much a taboo potion!' However, she quickly stopped shaking her head, as the motion made the odors seem all that much more poignant.

Rahal locked the door behind her and bid her friend's house farewell. 'That's a shame then. Especially considering you're a menfolk. I thought profanity was supposed to be your shtick.'

'Uggh. Eni, I've got to— oh man, this blows.' The dung he had rolled in with Rahal earlier dripped off his jacket and fingers. 'I've gotta burn these clothes. This is putrid.'

'That _is_ rank, my God.'

Luna squeezed her nose and said, 'How could people even live here?'

Aboutfacing in place, Rahal replied, 'Don't change the subject now, mate. Just to help you get over your fears, I'm going to show you exactly what happens when you mix Black Saturdays with napalm wine.'

Luna meekly said, 'Can we please go back to looking for magical creatures?'

'Later! We'll do that later.' Rahal grabbed her arm and dragged her along the forest road. 'We're going to meet my parents, just to troll their faces. And then we're headin' to Seventh Earth. If everything's gone well, then Harry Potter and his mates should be there with Poxhart and Mozzy.'


	8. VIII

Rahal and Solomon huddled together, drawing Luna's attention. She wondered what they were up to, and figured it couldn't be anything good.

Solomon turned to her and said, 'Alright, Loons, we'll cut you a deal. You either come with me to find some magical crap, or you can stick with Eni and deal with her parents.'

She hadn't expected such an offer. Both options upset her. Every look at Solomon filled her with unease, and the thought of spending time with him felt downright frightening.

He looked... presentable. Nothing wrong with him. He wore all denim— a denim jacket over a plain white t-shirt, and blue jeans. He wore his hair long, shaggy, wiry, and complete with sideburns. His olive skin looked attractive, but there wasn't anything special about him.

It was his vibe that felt off. _People don't have vibes like that_ , Luna thought.

Rahal fumbled with the Black Saturday placed above her ear. 'I just thought of some'n.'

 _Oh thank goodness._

'What is it?' Luna asked, voice dreamy once more.

'I'm an elf.'

Both Solomon and Luna felt their legs buckle, as if the sheer banality of the statement was trying to force them to fall. Luna in particular scoffed and threw out her hands.

Solomon shouted, 'How many years at college did it take you to arrive at that universe shattering conclusion?'

'A couple.' And her face was completely straight when she said it.

A giggle bubbled through Luna's chest, and she soon found herself halved over laughing. All her apprehension towards Rahal lifted off her shoulders, and she remembered just why they were friends.

Solomon couldn't help but to laugh, and he said, 'Alright, whatever. What's the situation, Loons?'

Luna didn't hesitate to say, 'I'll go with Enekai.'

'Alright, I'll come with.'

* * *

They rode a horse-drawn carriage through the evening rain for several hours, exchanging jokes and stories and bite-sized candies. Luna's tensions eased, and she felt better about being around the two once she was reminded that they weren't villainous.

Listening to the rain crash upon the carriage top relaxed them, and the warm glow of Rahal's magelight didn't offend them too much. They passed evergreen trees— conifers and junipers that rode out the bitter rains. Luna saw little in the way of civilization, save for isolated farms and abandoned shacks ever so often. The whole atmosphere felt saturnine, just as Rahal had described it. As the sky grew darker and darker, she could have sworn the woodlands took on an evil nature. Perhaps that was just the night combined with the dead skies.

About six hours in, Rahal stretched and said, 'I can't stand this. It's mental, how you're supposed to expect to stay sane on these trips. It's been, what, six hours?'

'At least the smell's not so bad,' Luna said.

'I mean, yeah... But it'd be better to just zip to Morgunstjarna.'

Luna popped a chocolate button. 'That's what we have the Floo network for.'

Solomon added, 'How did they develop that anyway?'

'I don't know the specifics...'

'Bet it's like a warp zone,' Rahal said, taking a chocolate button for herself. 'You know, like that quantum entanglement nonsense.' Luna drew a blank. 'It's Muggle magic, love, don't sweat it.' She leaned against a sill and stared out into the night.

The darkness of the night weighed on Luna ever more heavily as they trekked on. She asked, 'How much longer until we arrive?' but Rahal didn't give her any attention. So again she asked, 'How much longer until we get there?'

'Hmm? Oh— about another two hours. That was Felsmere, so yeah. Right arse, innit? Takes way too long.' Rahal started to laugh, but that laugh faded when she noticed Luna's eyes stuck on the passing forest. She looked out the window again as well. 'It's creepy, I know.'

Luna snapped her attention back to her. 'I-it's not that it's creepy, just...'

'No, don't sugarcoat it. It's true. This is what all of our woodlands feel like these days. Cold. Evil. Like a thousand demons are staring back atcha. It's the most awful feeling in the world, to know that civilization's dying all 'round you and there's nothing you can do to stop it.'

Suddenly, Solomon said, 'Eni, what's this I hear about Burgess returning to Janvier?'

She barely turned. 'Where'd you hear that?'

'Hendrikson just sent me a text.' He pointed at his eye. 'I thought he was dead?'

Rahal put her fist in her palm and considered this. 'Anthony doesn't know when to quit.'

Solomon grabbed her wrist and said more firmly this time, 'I thought he was dead.'

Rahal's gaze wavered. Luna watched on, half expecting the two to start hitting each other, half expecting them both to admit to trolling her again. Instead, Rahal pushed Solomon's hand away.

'It's nothing.'

'Nothing!' Solomon then called out to the carriage driver, 'Alright, you can stop us here! Go no further! We'll pay you for the whole trip.'

All of her voice's dreaminess had gone when she asked, 'What's wrong?'

'Enekai didn't kill a man. Normally, you'd call that a good thing.' Solomon lit a cigarette with his finger. 'Not in this case. Not at all. I hope you don't mind us skipping meeting her parents.'

Rahal said morosely, 'She'll be glad she didn't.'

'We've gotta meet with Poxhart and Moz _right now_.'

They stepped out of the carriage. Luna didn't like being outside, in the middle of the forest, and she felt badly for the poor coachman who had to ride out all alone with little more than a dagger to protect him. After paying the coachman, Solomon came back to the group and lifted his wand. Once more, sparkles danced around them and they zapped away.


	9. Satyr IX

'All I request from thee is a bitta victuals. Bring me some nourishment, and I'll let you off the hook. So what's it gonna be then, eh?'  
Luna stood back and held up her wand to Rahal, while Solomon lay on the ground— bleeding from his mouth and head. Everything had descended into lunacy in an instant, and the girl didn't know how she'd be able to fend off against such a powerful force of nature. Standing by her side— Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, wands as erect as her own. She didn't mean to get them involved in this...!

And then she snapped out of her daze.  
'The hell's wrong with you, Moonshine?' Rahal waved in her face. Luna jumped, and pressed her hand against her wand. However, she realized she had been momentarily confused and quickly apologized for the bother.  
Solomon said, 'Don't lose your mind so easily, Loons. I should've warned you this is a bit of a troublesome traveling method for your kind, considering you're so unused to dimensional travel.'  
'I-I'm fine. Just got lost in a daydream, is all.' She couldn't convince herself that was a daydream. Not at all. Too real. Too vivid. The experience reminded her of the tales the other Ravenclaw girls would tell about Professor Trelawney, of how she'd occasionally fall into a trance that seemed far more genuine than her usual rambling. Luna never thought herself to be the psychic type, though the world of psychokinesis had always fascinated her. Anything to do with temporal shenanigans and unlocked mental powers seemed to be a thing that she should pursue. If only such abilities were not locked away and cast off as forbidden by the Wizarding elites! Yet there were always tales of random people— including those with otherwise no proficience into the psychotemporal arts— viewing the future. Not even just witches and wizards, either, but Muggles as well.  
What was it that she had seen? Something about vituals... Rahal shot Solomon in the head, right in his temple, and she asked for some sort of food. The way she asked for it suggested Rahal was about to kill her. It's all a bit daft in the end.  
Luna winced when Solomon grabbed her shoulder. 'Are you sure you're okay?'  
This time, Luna forced herself to smile and say, 'It's alright. Just a thought I've been having. So is this Seventh Earth?'  
Rahal nodded. 'Right here, it's not much. We landed in the middle of nowhere, so it's not like I'm screwing you over or anything.'  
'This is Elon Isle,' said Solomon. 'We've set up shop and a home here out in the city. Otherwise, it's our playground. But chances are, you're not gonna see the main, glimmering metropolis. Not tonight, at least.'  
'Of course, I know why you're at all interested in the place, Moonshine, so don't worry about it— we'll see those wondrous cryptids soon enough. Right now, Solomon and I just hafta get a little business in order.'  
Solomon stared into the sky. Luna followed his gaze, but she saw nothing. The sky was a dark blue, purple and pink around the horizon, and mostly empty of clouds save for a few red streaks.  
'I've called some of our friends to pick you up. I believe Harry Potter and his friends are with Mozzy.'  
Luna gawked at him. 'Harry Potter?'  
'Oi! We've told you this, Moonshine. That we've nicked Potter and fam and've gotten 'im to enjoy our lovely little pisslot. He's already seen Navia, I'm sure, and I'm sure he hates it just as much as you do.'  
Solomon said, 'I'll leave Burgess to you.'  
Rahal scoffed and shook her head. 'Whatcha tryna do, leave the bratchny on me? You think I want to mess?'  
The reply was a straightforward, 'I'll take Luna to Moz and Potter.'  
That made Rahal chuckle. 'Are you truly soft in the head or some'n, bruv? I'm her mate.'  
Solomon flicked his hand towards her. 'See ya.' She folded her arms. Again, Solomon shoo'd her. Rahal's response? Sticking out her tongue. And then she walked off.  
'Alone at last. For now.' Solomon unbuttoned his shirt and exposed his rigged, chiseled chest. 'We should head to Falstead. That's probably where we'll find Mozzy.' The trepidation from before returned, not least because of how random it was for him to expose his chest. That vibe she felt returned, and Solomon suddenly seemed to glow in the dusklight, as if he were radiating an invisible glow that could only be felt rather than seen.

* * *

Luna followed Solomon. At first, they trekked through the trees, stepping on and over branches. The mist reflected a cool violet off the sky, all the while the insects sang their mating calls through the night. Will o' the Wisps seemed to dance in the corner of her eyes, vanishing as she turned— perhaps never having been there in the first place.  
She couldn't deny that the place felt magical. Magical in a rustic sort of way.

Their footsteps soon changed from snaps to muffled crunches. A grass road lain before them. They followed the path. Fifty paces onward, they came across a wooden sign with arrows pointing in two directions.

— FALSTEAD (3 KM)

— DANBURY (11 KM)

'How eager are you to get to civilization?'

Luna bit her lip and replied, 'We can take our time, if you'd like.'  
'Just asking, since I figured you'd enjoy this next bit.' He placed his arm over her chest, stopping her. 'Be quiet, and open your ears. Whatever you do, don't attempt to capture whatever you see, so keep your wand aside.'  
Luna nodded. Solomon turned to the trees. He flicked his finger towards himself, motioning for Luna to follow him— slowly. They sneaked towards a hedge, keeping their heads down. Luna felt her senses sharpen and her heart beat ever faster. This is why she wanted to come along, after all. To see fantastic creatures of another world!  
Grass blades wilted and tipped in the breeze. Dragonflies landed upon tree branches. Small mammals, indescript, scuttled to tree stumps. All eyes forward.

There it is— that frightening beast!

Luna whispered, 'What is—' when Solomon pinched her lips. In that moment, she heard a voice in her head, a voice she found familiar.  
'Beware of this one, Lovegood, for it is a strange cryptid yet unknown to this world.'  
That was Solomon. He let go of her and she felt her mouth drop. Telepathy shouldn't be such a shock to her— so why did she tremble?  
Solomon pointed, and the voice returned to say, 'It is a bizarre one that even I cannot recognize. Perhaps it is not of this world.'  
The beast sat hunched over. It looked humanoid to Luna, but that was all she could ascertain in this dark lighting. That head, though... The head looked monstrous and utterly detached from anything Luna recognized. Sickening and grotesque, as if covered in swamp weeds.

It bolted away.

'Did you see that?' she shouted. 'It must've run at a thousand kilometers an hour!'  
'Perhaps it was an ultraterrestrial,' Solomon said.  
'A what? Enekai said something about those ultraterr...whatever you call it.'  
Solomon stood up fully and paced around. 'I have to admit, Luna, that you lucked out. We had intended to bring you to this place to show you cryptids, and the first time you come, we see an entirely new creature.'  
'Did Enekai plan this before now?'  
'Actually, yes. We both did. Eni seemed a bit excited to show you around.' Solomon walked on and rubbed his chin. 'I'm concerned about this entity, though.'  
Luna felt a great warmth inside of her as she considered Solomon's words. Everyone seemed to claim that Rahal was a less than reputable person, and yet they had become true friends...  
'—and perhaps from the second realm as well. Are you listening?'  
Luna blinked and said, 'Hmm? I'm sorry about that.'  
Solomon slapped his sides and said, 'We should go. Harry Potter should be in Falstead at this moment.'  
And that's when Luna noticed a strange inflection in his voice, as if— for the first time— he wasn't the one in control.


	10. Wizard X

This path seemed to go on forever.  
But the temperature worked in their favor— neither too warm nor too cold. If the path were miles long, they could trek through without breaking a sweat. Of course, Luna remembered the sign. Falstead lay near.  
To pass the time, she looked into her memories. How strange it all was! And rightly so, since the two have always been seen as being strange. All this had begun so innocently, way back on the Hogwart's Express, with her own inquisitiveness about Rahal's history. And now she's seeing for herself what Rahal had told her. She saw the bile-ridden world of Navia, and now she's experiencing this one odd place, Seventh Earth. Elon Isle. It is all a bit sudden, but the thrill of an adventure excited her. Least of her experiences, though, was this one. There's something about Yoshua Solomon that strikes her as simply too dotty to be real.  
Just look at him. How'd he meet Enekai anyway? Where did _he_ come from?  
Luna pulled a locket out of her pocket and opened it. There they were, all three of them— Ginny, Eni, and herself. Smiling, making silly poses, giggling. Ginny, she always thought to have had a wild and wacky life, having grown up as the only sister in a household of brothers. Yet Eni...  
'Eni's a lot of fun, you know.'  
Luna looked up. 'What do you mean?'  
He said nothing more. There were lights up ahead, though they could see the glow in the sky from a bit away. The soft rumble of cars along roadways also grew louder as they approached. They came upon a highway. A few hundred meters to their right, a hill and bridge with off-ramps. To their left, the highway went on for some time before there was a curve in the trees. Across from them, a chain-linked fence and more scroungy trees, with small businesses and fast-food chains visible behind them.  
Solomon pulled a fag from his coat pocket and lit it with his wand, and said, 'Falstead's probably across this highway.'  
That made Luna want to fall to the ground. 'What gave you that impression?'  
He puffed smoke, dropped the cigarette, and said, 'Just a guess.'

* * *

That silly guess was obviously right. They waited for a lull in the traffic and jogged across the first road, taking a pause in the median to wait for the next lull. Once they reached the other side, Solomon helped Luna over the fence and vaulted himself over.  
By this time, the daylight was well and fully extinguished, and all that was left was night. Luna thought they must have looked like suspicious shadows slipping through the moonlight.  
They passed the back of a fast-food restaurant and walked towards the connecting street. When Luna looked back, she noticed that, again, she could not see Solomon's reflection in the glass.  
'Potter should be on 1235 Orson Drive. That's not too far from here.'  
'It doesn't look like any place in this town is too far from here.'  
Indeed, that was the first thing she noticed about Falstead, was how small it felt. The town itself seemed to be no more than a few buildings that happened to be close to each other, and there were only a handful of streetlights along the main street.  
'Falstead's a recreation of small-town Americana; I wouldn't have expected anything less.'  
The mention of Americana reminded Luna of Solomon's own nationality. She tugged at his shoulder and asked, 'How did you meet Enekai?'  
'Chance meeting, was all.' He turned away from her and continued on down the sidewalk. Luna reached out towards him, but chalked up her loss of the conversation and followed him.  
'But what does a "chance meeting" mean? She's an English elf, isn't she?'  
'Perhaps.'  
And then Luna felt a bit of red in her cheeks. 'What do you mean "perhaps?" Is she or isn't she?'  
Solomon stopped abruptly, and Luna felt a part of her heart sink. He turned and said, with a small grin, 'I mean, I don't know exactly if she hails from an analog of what you'd call "England" or not. She's a colourful girl, and doesn't like placing her home in anyone place.'  
Luna felt her insides sigh as the tension defused itself, and she pressed on with, 'But what about you, then? You're not from Navia.'  
'How do you know I'm not?'  
'Enekai said so.'  
He laughed. 'So you're just going to take whatever she says at face value, then?'  
'Should I not?'  
This time, his grin faded. 'To be honest, I don't know anymore.'  
He approached the door. With every knock came a metallic clang. Flakes of rust shook off. Luna saw a massive, distorted eye appear in the peephole.  
'Lapis lazuli dimlight raksha?'  
'Novus ordo septum.'  
Footsteps pattered, and the door scratched and screeched against the floor, opening in juts that ripped up the peeling floor.  
'Why 'ello, 'ello, 'ello!'  
'Long time no see. You're looking khorosho.'  
'Same to you, fam.'  
Luna peeked behind the boy and saw the scroungy hair of two familiar faces, one donning an ever-familiar lightning bolt upon his forehead. 'Harry!'  
'Luna Lovegood? What on Earth...!' said Hermione. She exchanged the same flabbergasted expression with Harry.  
'What's all this about then, Mozzy?'  
The boy, Mozzy, spoke over his shoulder, saying, 'Old familiar droog of mine. Prettyboy Mighty, the one and only Yoshie.'  
'Fancy words coming from a yiffwizard.' They all turned to see Rahal walking up to them. Solomon lit another cigarette. 'You know this, Potter, me old boy. Just look at this girly swot's fine, svelte physique. The kind of queer who loves a bit of the old eyes upon the cheeks.'  
'Tease it, you bint!'  
Luna felt half of a laugh inside her, but couldn't put aside her friend's vulgarity. Yet she was right— if one didn't get a second look, they might mistake the childly Mozzy for a girl.  
'What's the deal with Burgess?'  
'It was nothing. Apparently, some really grahzny bratchny got his hands on a Black Saturday not unlike my own—' she pulled the rose from behind her ear '—and mixed it with napalm wine. A few drops over Burgess's grave, and the rest is history. It was really nothing difficult to deal with.'


	11. Sabbat XI

Rahal's wounds didn't escape notice. Luna was the first to ask if she had been gravely injured, to which Rahal shook her head.  
'Just a few scratches, is all. It'll heal in a few minutes; nothing my elven blood can't handle. Not like you menfolk, of course— if you got hit by a good shot from a zombie, we'd might as well load up the slugs right now.'  
'Stop scaring her,' Hermione said. 'What's all this about zombies?'  
Mozzy said, 'You're a smart witch, yes? Surely you're aware of what happens when you mix the petals of a Black Saturday with napalm wine?'  
Hermione hesitated and said, 'Nothing good.'  
'Exactly.'  
Luna said to Rahal, 'I told you it's dark arts.'  
'Which is why it intrigues me so much.' Rahal smeared her blood across her cheek when she rubbed her nose. 'Ah Christ. So I take it you've seen a cryptid or two?'  
Luna began to speak, but Solomon spoke over her, saying, 'It's not good. We definitely found something earlier.'  
The elf's eyes lit up, and she exclaimed, 'Holy crap, you actually saw a cryptid? Please tell me it was actually a crumple-horned snorkack.'  
Solomon chuckled along with Luna. 'I wish it was anything like that. Strange things are happening. Luna will attest that we both saw an ultraterrestrial, one clearly not from my domain.' He pressed Luna's shoulder and motioned for her to speak.  
Interrupted. 'So when you say you saw and "ultraterrestrial", you mean something like ol' Mothman, right?'  
Again Luna was interrupted. 'Okay, okay, what?' Hermione shook her head and stepped forward. 'What on Earth are you on about?'  
Mozzy, hands behind his head, added, 'Yeah, that sounds right scary 'n all, but I thought we already had a plan of action for the night.'  
Harry asked, 'What does any of your problems have to do with us? And why did they bring along Loony Lovegood?'  
'Luna,' shouted both the girl herself and Rahal.  
'Get it right, ponce!'  
Hermione stepped forward and said, 'Don't call Harry a ponce!'  
'Well don't call Moonshine "Loony", and there won't be any more problems.' That brought Rahal a funny look from Luna.  
Mozzy shouted, 'Piss off, Enekai. These aren't your mates.'  
Harry and Hermione's faces twitched as they turned to him. Silence thickened the air.  
Solomon then said, 'We'll be taking them off your hands, then.' He cocked his head towards Harry and Hermione and asked, 'You know where we're going, right?'  
Harry half-shook his head and shakily said, 'Navia, right?' Solomon nodded.  
'I'll be frank with you— I only half expect any of this to work.' Solomon bumped Rahal's shoulder. 'And that's being generous with what I've been given.'  
Rahal threw him a trollish grin and said, 'What's that supposed to mean, Yoshie?'  
Mozzy leaned against the wall and said, 'Looks like you were right there, Eni.' Everyone's attention honed in on Rahal, and she rubbed one of her cuts. As she told, they had faded over the minutes and no longer spilled blood. 'Anywho, if you all don't mind, I'll be staying 'ere. I figured I'd have a little fun with some cyberdelic chicks downtown. And let's not forget your evil juice!'  
Mozzy picked up and handed to Solomon a small vial of a sickly violet liquid sitting on a nearby plastic desk. After, he swaggered out of the room, said one final 'Peace,' and disappeared into the night.  
After the door shrieked to a close, a short bout of silence won over. Solomon placed the vial inside of another coat pocket in a way so that the neck of it stuck out.  
'Thank God he's gone,' Harry said with a heavy sigh. 'He reminded me too much of Malfoy.'  
Rahal guffawed, halving over and struggling to catch her breath. 'That's a new one! I'm gonna let 'im know that one, because that's perfect. It's beautiful!'  
'Isn't he a bit too young to be chasing women?'  
'Moz? Ah, he's a kitsune. Older than any of us,' said Solomon.  
'Kitsune?'  
'They're nine-tailed shapeshifting foxes from Japan,' Luna said.  
' _Mythical_ nine-tailed shapeshifting foxes,' Hermione added. 'No one's ever seen a real kitsune before.'  
Rahal scoffed and said, 'Well, now you have. By the way, what was with that whole shocked look back there? You acted like Mozzy uttered some dastardly black magic incantation.' She began picking at one of the wounds on her chin and added, 'Again.'  
Harry said, 'It's nothing. Just...'  
'You didn't expect him to take your side because of how sinister you found him to be?'  
Harry shot Solomon a half-stunned look. 'Y-yes, exactly.'  
'You have every right to distrust these two.'  
Hermione gave him a bit of snark with, 'And _you're_ so innocent?'  
'All would find me trustworthy.'  
'That's funny coming from a Slytherin.'  
Solomon pulled another cigarette from his coat pocket and turned away. 'Harry Potter?'  
He looked up. 'Yes?'  
'You're proficient at the Patronus charm, correct?'  
'Why do you want to know?'  
'It's necessary for all this. If you don't wish to do it, I'll bring you and Hermione Granger back to Ninth Earth.' Every word sounded genuine, and his timbre was deep. Some otherworldly force filled Solomon's voice, and he spoke in explosions.  
Yet this seemed to escape Harry's notice. 'What about Ron? And Luna Lovegood?'  
'I presume Ronald Weasley is with Poxhart over on Navia, correct? I'll fetch him immediately. And Luna, of course—' He turned to meet her eyes, and she turned to Harry, so he continued with, 'She's the closest to Rahal, so her choice depends on what they decide upon. Though I cannot force you to make a decision, I will tell you this.' He turned back to Harry, eyes locking. 'I already know what you will choose.'  
Once more, there was silence.  
'Whoa-ho-ho! Bad ass!' Rahal whooped.  
Harry's face contorted as he struggled with what he was told. Hermione pulled him away, and whispered something to him. Then he turned back.  
'I'll finish whatever it is you want.'  
Solomon pulled the cigarette from his lips, bent it, and flicked it out of a nearby window. 'Eni, take the lead.' He handed her his wand. She twirled it around and hummed the tune of a Celtic hymn. The sparkles returned. Papers on nearby desks fluttered, and the wall plaster tore off at an accelerated rate as the maelstrom grew in intensity. Their hair and clothes whipped in the wind, and the rainbow of colors glowed all around them until they could no longer see any trace of the dilapidated room.  
Once more, that stench of shit filled their noses. The blackness of night didn't change, but the architecture around them bore no resemblance to the antemillennialist constructs they saw in Falstead.  
They were back on Navia.


	12. Vinum XII

'This place is atrocious!' whined Hermione.  
Rahal said, 'It's atrocious everywhere you go. Really depressing place. Really bleak. Imagine if you had to grow up in such a cesspit of degeneration and filth without knowing there ever was a better world somewhere out there.'  
Forlorn paupers went about their day. Those rags hanging off their emaciated bodies, grimy and torn and only barely covering them up, were what passed for clothes. Every face sat heavy and deathly— even the youth seemed beyond their years. Menfolk, orcfolk, and dwarvenfolk mingled amongst themselves and did their business.  
Harry kept his wand at the ready at all moments, and for good reason. No eyes went by without thieving stares.  
So Solomon said to this, 'It's a sad world.'  
'Hence why I got the hell out of there the first moment I could. Speaking of which— Moonshine! Perhaps you'd like to come with me to meet my parents?'  
Hermione grabbed Luna's hands and said, 'Don't go anywhere near them, Lovegood. Ron, Harry, and I had the displeasure of meeting them, and they were the most bitter and hateful creatures I've ever met.'  
'I did warn Moonshine of this, now didn't I? They would never tolerate menfolk in their home anyway.'  
Harry asked, 'Then why bother bringing us to them?'  
'First of all, I didn't— bring that up with Mozzy and Poxhart. Second of all, I figured that we'd eventually become...' Rahal slithered over to Harry's side and ran her hand across his shoulder and neck, finishing with, 'friends!'  
'Probably should stop figuring, then.'  
Rahal scowled.

Cheers and jeers erupted from a nearby crowd, and the throngs of peasants rushed out of the way. There came a horse-drawn carriage, elaborate and decadent in its design, worthy of Louisian aristocrats. The group caught a glimpse of the occupant— another high elf. Similar soft-faced features as Rahal, but with the wrinkles of maturity. He looked clad in an ornate fancydress befitting of his garish carriage, and he cast them a nasty grimace as he passed.  
The clopping stopped, and the carriage door opened.  
'You!' He pointed at Rahal. 'You traitorous wench!'  
Rahal giggled, placed her hand upon her chest, and said, 'Thou art senile as usual, Your Pissness. I hold no attachment to your lordship.'  
The elven noble stepped forward and slapped Rahal across the cheek.  
'Your disgusting degeneration knows no bounds. And now you insult your house and honorable bloodline with further fornication with menfolk!' He swept his hand over the others, and didn't dare look their way.  
Rahal stuck out her tongue.  
Solomon stepped in-between the two.  
'Adeus, I will give you fair warning— leave your daughter in peace.'  
Luna gasped and quickly looked at both Rahal and her father. This is her father? How horrible!  
Adeus didn't flinch. 'I do not recognize the uncivilized grunts of you lowly apes.'  
Neither did Solomon. 'You leave me no choice.' He held his arms out in a Jesus Christ pose. Suddenly, a gale of wind exploded from his body and swept the grunge off the ground, blinding everyone in the vicinity.  
Adeus swung his fist several times, yet once he wiped the grunge out of his eyes, he swore as he saw the group no longer standing before him. Grumbling, he boarding his carriage, swore at the driver, and carried on.

* * *

They ran on down an alley, well away from the glow of the street's candlelights.  
Harry asked, 'How did you do that?'  
Solomon answered, 'Will.'  
'Will what? You didn't utter any spell, and you can't be any older than we are— what was that?'  
Rahal leaned against a gutterpipe. 'For shame, Yoshie! How the Man of Peace so easily gave way to violence. Perhaps I really am the great corruptor.'  
'My abilities are not infinite in your world.'  
Before any of Potter's gang could open their mouths, Rahal turned to them and said, 'Speaking of which, I ought to apologize for that nasty little run-in with Adeus. It escaped my mind that he goes on night rides every so often just to flaunt his authority around the proles. Not all fathers are good men, obviously— and clearly, Yoshie's always had problems as well.'  
Hermione asked, 'What's that got to do with anything?'  
'I'll tell you when we reach the Saturday grove. If we stick to this alley, we should pass right by Poxhart's kettly pad over by the plaza. Solomon, don't tell them anything— I want Ron to be with them when we finally tell them everything.'  
'Tell them _everything?_ What are you planning on telling them?'  
'Everything.'  
Solomon stepped in front of her. 'I asked you a question.'  
'Do you want me to start giving out answers for you? As you said, Navia is not part of your jurisdiction.'  
This brought a half-troubled sneer upon Solomon's face. He stepped aside and said, 'Your move.'  
'It always is.'


	13. Outro

' _Rahal!_ '  
The whole group stopped mid-step and aboutfaced. Behind them stood another elf woman, this one donning a suit that did not appear at all to be from Navia. The way the dark-chrome thing glowed screamed 'cyberpunk'. Her hands in her battlesuit's pockets, she strode forward with a sadistic grin.  
Rahal sent the girl her own. 'Well well well! Well well well well well! If it isn't Balsa Reika.'  
'You've got some nerve stinking up Morgunstjarna will your murderous arse.'  
Reika lacked Rahal's babyface and gothy black hair, instead having a short, sharp, hot pink pixie cut with a flair half covering her right eye.  
'What's her problem?'  
'Just follow me, don't worry about it. Leave these two alone.'  
'Eni!' Luna shouted. 'Be safe!'  
Rahal cocked her head over her shoulder and blew the girl a kiss. 'Don't cry for me, Moonshine.'

After they exited the alley and found themselves in a flower-filled plaza, Hermione asked again, 'Seriously, what _was_ her problem? Who was that?'  
Solomon looked back. 'That was Basla Reika, another noble high-elf. Those two have a history with each other, and I won't bore you with the details. I'll assume Adeus Rahal tipped her off that Eni's back in town.'  
Before them stood Ron, chomping on a sweet. He walked out with a dwarf, the one known as Poxhart.  
'We saw the whole thing,' he said. 'Why is everyone here such prats?'  
Luna answered, 'Eni told me it's because of a dark lord who destroyed the world.'  
Poxhart spoke up, his voice simultaneously gruff and nasally, saying, 'Aye, you're referring to Kyaman Bol'Yaga. Christ, it's been a long time since I heard anyone with the balls to say that name around these parts.'  
Solomon said, 'You should know by now that they're unused to this world. Of course, we should give them our thanks for making sure their own world doesn't descend to such incredible lun... Hrmm, insanity.'  
Poxhart dragged a sack across the stone plaza and pulled out one of its contents. 'Now then... Ronald 'n I 'ave been getting down to some basic triestic druidry. I presume you have a Black Saturday?'  
'Rahal has it.'  
'Napalm wine, then?' This time, Solomon pulled the flask from his pocket and handed it to Poxhart. The dwarf pulled the cork from the top and took a whiff. 'Whoof! Putrid. One of the best concoctions I've seen yet.'  
'We spent hours getting it right,' Harry said. 'Hermione did most of the work, I mean.'  
'As usual.'  
'Right, then! What else... Ah, yes— the blood of the fairest maiden!' Poxhart approached Luna, grabbed her hand, and pinched her finger. The girl flinched, and Poxhart let a single drop of blood fall into the flask. 'Now all we hafta do is wait for Rahal to return.'  
Luna sucked her finger, and Solomon leaned upon a well's wooden frame.  
'Harry,' he began. Harry looked up. 'You're proficient at using the Patronus charm, correct?'  
'You've already asked this.'  
'Well now it's important.'  
Harry paused. 'I can make one. Why do you ask?'  
'This is what Rahal planned. This is all her doing. We have the napalm wine, and she's got the Black Saturday.'  
'But that's a forbidden potion!' Hermione said. 'If you cross the two, you'll have the power to raise the dead.'  
Solomon sucked on a freshly lit cigarette fag. 'Take it up with Eni.'  
And right as he said that, Rahal dropped to the ground from a nearby rooftop. She pressed the whole group to a wall just under an awning, and as soon as footsteps upon the rooftop came and went, she stepped back out into the moonlight.  
'Brilliant evening! Absolutely brilliant!'  
Hermione grabbed Rahal. 'We're not helping you do anything arcane.'  
'Anything arca— what are you on about?'  
Solomon facepalmed. 'The Black Saturday, Eni. Don't play dumb.'  
'Oh, right. Yes, yes, that's not my intention.' She yoinks the vial from Poxhart before the dwarf realized what had happened, pulled the black rose from behind her ear, crushed its petals, and sprinkled it into the napalm wine. The moment the petals hit the potion, they disintegrated into violet flames. 'This does have Luna's blood, yes?' Luna, still tending to her minor wound, nods. 'Alright then. I summon... Harry Potter!'  
This sent shockwaves throughout the group, and Harry screamed, 'What?'  
Silence.  
'Um, Harry? I sorta need you. Like, right here. Get your wand out.' The silenced filled with awkwardness. He walked forward and fumbled with his wand. 'Now, dip it into this bottle.' He obeyed, and allowed the thick and gooey black wine coat the tip of his wand. 'And finally, aim it towards the sky and summon a Patronus.'  
Ron whispered to Hermione, 'Poxhart explained to me what's going on. All that's going to happen is—'  
' _Expecto Patronum!_ '

* * *

When Harry volunteered for this task, he couldn't have imagined just how unbelievably boring it would prove to be. All day, he's been using basic magic spells to clean trash from the park. Just last night was Walpurgisnacht, and the Wizarding World went a little overboard, as it was apt to do. Ever since Voldemort's defeat, there had been a lot to celebrate.

And to be truthful, he was more willing to complete this mundane task considering he had a bit of help, a charming young witch named Enekai Rahal. Enekai hailed from the Midlands and carried herself with a type of grace you'd expect from nobility— walking as if it were a dance, body moving in circular motions...  
Some part of it repulsed him. He remembered a lady who moved quite like that, and she was quite the, ahem, 'witch with a different letter.'  
Yet Enekai didn't seem like her. In fact, she didn't seem to be anything as she hadn't spoken a word since they met.

As Harry waved his wand and zapped trash into a bag, he kept his eye on the girl. Her hair was a raven-black color with a hint of violet, whereas her eyes were the reverse— big and purple with black centers. She also had a very soft and round face, with puffy and unrefined cheeks like that of a little girl. She wore pure denim— jean pants and a jean jacket— as well as a cross necklace. Interestingly, she always wore fingerless gloves, and he could never figure out why.

Come to think about it, she seemed to have elven ears. Yet all the elves Harry's ever known never looked as tall and healthy as Enekai. No, he's only known house elves that were the furthest thing from Tolkien's lot. Up until now, he had known elves to be meek and servile dwarf-like slaves, and yet Rahal was nearly indistinguishable from a human. Her wand also never got much use; she seemed to be annoyed by it more than anything. That would make sense, seeing that she's a magical creature.

When they were alone, he mustered up the courage to shout a 'Hey' towards her.

'So... I mean, how are you?' he asked awkwardly.  
She quickly responded, 'Oh, you talk? I was hoping I could get a few words outta you.' She also grinned. That was the first time he saw her display any emotion beyond her usual smug sneer. The first thing he could tell was that she was definitely not a Midlander— that accent was purely Queen's English.  
He swallowed and said, 'I didn't want to be rude or anything.' This was a lie, as he wanted to get over the task at hand as quickly as possible. Otherwise, he would have chatted before now.  
'Quite the gentleman, then. Might I ask you something, Mr. Potter?'  
He nodded after she paused. 'Go on.'  
'You're a Hogwarts graduate, yes? Are you familiar with the elves of Yorkfordshire?'  
'No,' he said meekly. He had never even heard of the place, and felt it made him look stupid.  
'Good, don't look into them. They're a nasty lot, right droogs. I've dealt with them.'  
'I noticed you're an elf as well.'  
Enekai fumbled with her ears. 'That's right. You ever read Tolkien?' Harry nodded. 'I'm a hybrid elf. 75% high elf, 25% wood elf.'  
'Who are your parents? I might've heard of them,' he lied.  
'The Rahals? I doubt you've heard of them, unless you've been doing a lot of traveling. Maybe I'll tell you someday.'  
Harry chased after a scrunched up note after the wind took it into a field. He caught a glimpse of the nasty words on it and quickly tossed it in.  
'You don't have to do anymore of this if you don't want to. I can take care of the entire woodlands by the evening.'  
This put a bit of red in Harry's eyes. If she could clear the forest by herself, why did the Ministry need him to help clean up? 'Thank you.'  
'I just don't like using magicka so often. I've been trying to get my hands hard lately. Hard enough to take parkour.'  
'You're a freerunner?'  
'Traceur is the correct term, and yes. I've been practicing parkour in the city, and it's been right murder on the tips and palm. When you cross it with psychokinesis and magic, it gets a bit too easy.'  
'You don't get punished for using magic out in the open?'  
Rahal cocked her head. 'Minimage has no jurisdiction over me.'  
Harry asked, 'What's Minimage?'  
'Ever read Orwell?' Again, Harry nodded. 'Minipax, Miniluv, that lot? Ministry of Magic is Minimage. I'm not all that kind towards the fascists there. No disrespect, I mean.'  
Harry didn't say anything, instead feeling tinges of trepidation.  
'I'm a tad sorry that I never got to go through Hogwarts myself, especially while you were still a student. Things might've actually been fun.'  
These words turned Harry's cheeks red, and he gave a dismissive gesture.  
'I'll just leave you to all the rubbish. There *is* a lot of it, moreso than usual.'  
'That's only because Walpurgisnacht was a few nights back. I've been to the celebrations a few times.'  
'Is it any fun?'  
'About fifty grams worth.'  
'What?'  
'Let's go with "kind of." It can get amusing at times, but I've never had to write any letters extolling the joys of experiencing it. Anywho, I won't keep you any longer. It's been nice talking to you, Harry Potter. I'm glad we've met.' They shook hands. 'Glad to meet you as well.' As he walked away, he felt a bit bad for thinking she was dotty.

And then he did something he still doesn't understand.  
He turned back and asked her a question. 'I'm sorry, have we ever met?'  
Rahal stared into space. 'Well... Yes, we 'ave.'  
This caught Harry by surprise. His memory wasn't the greatest, but he was sure he would've remembered a character such as her. 'My head's a little foggy right now; when was it?'  
'Yesterday.'  
'Oh.' Harry felt stupid. Or maybe that was his sudden annoyance with Rahal. 'I meant, like, before that?'  
Rahal shook her head. 'No, we've only met yesterday. Though I wouldn't be surprised if there were some part of you that would feel as if we met before.'  
'What do you mean?'  
Rahal stepped towards him. 'I've been watching you. All this time, while you went on your grand little adventures, I was there— in the background. Nothing stalkerly. Just a bitta Big Sisterly love.'  
The more she spoke, the less comfortable Harry became. He had met stalker types before, and had always made sure to keep his wand close to his hand in case any attempted to make dangerous moves. The littered field fast left his mind.  
'I know it sounds mental, everything I'm saying. If it'll calm your nerves, I'll tell you that Dumbledore put me up to it.'  
Harry's mouth fell. 'Dumbledore? What do you know about Dumbledore?'  
'That he was a yiffy nitchey with the largest knob this side of Danbury. Fine little Kenobi, I'll admit. You see, he was the one who helped find my world in the first place, and he certainly had a way with you lot.'

* * *

Ever since then, Harry's gone out of his way to avoid the girl. There was something off about her that he could never quite explain. And now, he realized he was realized to keep her suspect.  
Rahal scoffed, and then gasped when her friend tugged at her.  
'Why would you do that to him?!' Luna wailed. 'He was your boyfriend!'  
'Luna, get away from her!' Hermione cried.  
There lay Solomon, sprawled on the ground. Dead from a killing spell to the head. A sickening amount of blood gushed from the wound, and his eyes had glazed over as his life faded from him completely.  
'You two said you loved each other!' Rahal couldn't react, even though she had to see Luna's weepy face.  
She pet her friend's head and brought her closer. 'We do. And I'm pretty sure we always will. It's not like he's dead or anything.'  
'What kinda sick joke is that supposed to be?' Ron shouted.  
'It's not a joke.'  
All eyes except Rahal's turned to Solomon. None of them could say a word. Ron dropped his wand in awe.  
Solomon stood before them. His wound still bled, but he did not react. What made it all so strange was the halo of light enveloping his head. That heavenly light filled the whole plaza, and gave them all a strange and healing warmth.  
'It's about time I tell you just who this grazhny bratchny really is.' Rahal shoved Luna away, letting her wand clatter upon the ground. 'Though I'm rather disappointed that your fine eyes couldn't see the truth before now. Surely all the hints were there, and you still missed them.'  
Solomon set another cigarette alight. 'Don't freak.'  
Rahal folded her arms and spent a few seconds to chuckle. Finally, she said, 'He is Jesus Christ.' She grabbed his cheeks and gave the divine one a French kiss. 'And I just gave you, Harry Potter, the ability to summon his divine etheric spirit at will. Congratulations! Your Patronus is now none other than the Son of God. Make good use of it.'  
Solomon's halo faded, and He blew smoke into the air. 'I didn't want anyone to know about this. So at the very least, promise me that this secret stays between us.'  
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Luna all said, 'Yes!'  
Poxhart laughed and scraggled Solomon's hair. 'Oi! It's always a fun time to see Earthers discover your identity, Yoshua.'  
'Almost as much as it's fun to watch them break down when they realize he's got an elf maiden for a girlfriend.' Rahal turned to Luna and said, 'I'll see you at Hogwarts when school's back in. Until then, shine on like the moon.'


End file.
